I love it, but for so long, so much of it has been sad and negative, I feel that I have moved on with my life, and with my new chapters unfolding, I need to create a new space to write in.

Thank you for all reading my crap, for sending me positive thoughts and love. It’s amazing what an online community can do for ones spirits when things are tough.

I have started a new blog, a new space, a place to share my excitement and joy. Please feel free to follow me there, I will once again be blogging regularly, I need to write, and I need a blank canvass!

I noticed last week Shaughn had taken off his wedding ring. I had taken mine off months ago. It’s probably been close to a year. I would tell people that it was because my hands get so dry in the winter months, but in reality, I knew my marriage was over even then. I would put them on for special occasions, or family get togethers, but for everyday things I took them off. I remember Shaughn questioning me about them once or twice, but I always had a reason why I wasn’t wearing them.

Initially, when I took the rings off I felt guilty. I felt like I was betraying Shaughn, my family, his family. I felt that I was giving up on us, I wasn’t trying hard enough for Paisley’s sake. I felt horrible.

At the same time, I couldn’t wear them. I felt like I was living a lie. I wasn’t in love any more. I didn’t want to be in my marriage. I was tired of being the wife, of holding it all together with limited support. I had tried so hard, for so long, and I had just given up. I continued to lie to myself, to Shaughn, to our families for many more months until I had the balls to end our married relationship.

By the time June came around, and I was ready to discuss everything with Shaughn, it had been since before Christmas that I had worn my rings, 6 or 7 months had passed. I had rarely thought of them, but had them tucked away safely.

On June 17th we agreed to end our marriage. I will never forget that day, the flood of emotions that came pouring from me. The incredulity at Shaughn’s lack of response to my utter sense of relief that I could start to live again. I cried, as much as I needed this, I also needed to know things would be ok. I needed to know he and I would be ok. I needed to know he didn’t hate me. As much as we had been through, I didn’t hate Shaughn, I couldn’t bear it if he hated me. I hated our marriage, but not him. Thankfully we have maintained a friendship through all of this. At times it is strained, and awkward, but it’s the beginning of something new; a new friendship with a very old friend.

All of this brings me back to last Friday night. Shaughn came to pick Paisley up for the weekend, and I noticed he had finally taken off his wedding band. I notice things, small things. Like removing a ring. Since June, I had wondered when he would take it off, I was slightly frustrated that he was still wearing it, wondering what he was thinking or feeling. Wondering why he was still wearing it 5 months after the fact. When I noticed it last week, I guess I finally felt closure. It brought with it hurt, and a few tears. Unresolved feelings that I will never resolve. I don’t want to dive into that tank of sharks. It also brought with it the feeling that I could move on, guilt free. I can live my life without worrying about how my actions will affect him.

I want to be happy. I want Shaughn to be happy. I want him to find someone who makes him feel over the moon in love, something I could never do for him. I want him to find a partner who respects him, and treats our daughter like the remarkable girl she is. I want him to find his ‘person’ and not to settle for the one who is a close second.

On the inside of my band, he had inscribed “Christa, with all my heart” I don’t think I ever had his whole heart, but I hope one day he finds the girl who can have it.

I’ve not posted recently, life is back to its normal routine. I work, I sleep, I work, I sleep. I’ve had so many changes in the last 6 months, it’s just now, that I’m learning to live in my new reality.

I guess my health first. I am cancer free. As in none. All Clear. BEST NEWS EVER. I have a visit with my oncologist Monday, not a visit really, but you know…after that I have a 6 month appointment, then one at a year post op. I generally feel fantastic, I’m pretty well healed up, I’m trying to view my horrible incision as a battle scar. I had cancer, I beat it, and I have the war wound to prove it. No more low-rise jeans, bring on the highrise Mom Jeans…fml. Oh well.

My energy is at an all time low. I liken it to the days when I had a 3 week old and the adrenaline of a new babe has worn off and I was up every 2 hours feeding…I’m that kind of tired. My sleep is often interrupted by hot flashes, dreams, and just the inability to sleep. It’s all kinds of suck ass but I know it will improve, or at least that’s what I tell myself.

I’ve decided at this point to stop HRT, so I guess I’m willingly putting myself through menopause…kinda sadistic. I’m doing it for good reason though. The women in my family seem to be afflicted with the BCRA1 and BCRA2 genes, the ones directly involved with both breast and ovarian cancer. I don’t have ovaries, but I have BOOOOOBS…two of them in fact. The HRT, although it was a very low dose, can still effect my chances of developing cancer, and if I also have the gene, then I’m even more so putting myself in direct risk of developing breast cancer. I just beat it once, let’s not test the fates shall we? So, no more HRT. I can tell you it is the pits. I can’t imagine hot flashes are awesome at any age, but at 35, I feel ridiculous. Thankfully it’s winter and I can quickly relieve symptoms (which I did at 4:30 this morning by standing outside in my night-shirt until the searing heat radiating off me subsided). I have an appointment scheduled with my GP to be referred to the geneticist to have the testing for the BCRA genes. So, fingers crossed it’s quick to get in, the results come quickly, and that I manage to dodge the bullet. If not it’ll be another surgery to remove the ‘girls’. On the plus side, if that happens, you can damn well bet, when I come out of surgery, I’m going to have fake tits that make a 17-year-old highschool senior jealous!

The second of the big changes has been my separation. This too is going well. We are doing divorce well. Is that even possible? Happily Divorced? Funny but it fits. Things had been a titch rocky, but now for the most part we are doing great. Shaughn is being a fantastic dad, which he always has been, and is better at being a friend to me. He has joined Paisley and I for dinner, and things (although slightly awkward) went well. I hope this can continue.

I like our friendship, I do not want a romantic relationship. I’m happy. Like Super fucking happy. It’s hard being a single mum; Really Really Tough, but I love it. I love the time I get to spend with Pais, I’m much happier, our house if filled with much more laughter, dancing, and joy. God knows I needed more Joy. I am enjoying my time with Pais, we are doing really fun things together that we just didn’t do. There was always someplace to go, or someplace to be. There wasn’t much time for kitchen parties, blaring Taylor Swift and singing into wooden spoons…now there is.

Paisley and I have a new and different relationship. I’m no longer competing with Shaughn for her attention, her world no longer revolves around him being home. That sounds horrible, but really that is how things have felt for the last almost 5 years. If Shaughn was home Paisley was glued to him. In many ways I don’t feel she and I were able to have a good relationship because she was too busy being with him. Nowadays she and I are close. Super close. I love it! She and Shaughn talk daily, and she sees him quite often. But when she’s with me, she’s with me. There are a lot more snuggles, books being read, letters being printed, singing and dancing. There is more My Little Pony play instead of watching, and lots of fun outings. I think we are both loving our new life.

I have a new post starting in my head, so I am going to sign off, I will try to post more now that life has found its new normal. Thank you to everyone for all the amazing words of support and kindness. Thank you for the words of encouragement to start writing again, sometimes I just need that little kick in the pants to get going again.

I’m A Survivor, Picture 1) Surgery Morning…scared beyond belief. 2) A few hours post surgery, just found out everything went well. 3) Part of my incision, it’s another 3-4 inches long. 4) The day my oncologist called and told me the news. Second happiest day of my life.

I’ve not blogged in while, truthfully it was just too painful. My life has been shit for the last 4 months.

I was avoiding blogging because it hurt too much to rehash my daily thoughts, it made me sad, it didn’t feel like I was getting anywhere, and I just ended up in tears with each blog I didn’t publish.

Now, here I am. 3 weeks post surgery, I am still recovering, I am still in pain, my body and mind are still healing, but I have peace.

All of the cancer was removed, nothing had spread, my lymph nodes were clear, all the additional biopsies were clear. I am Cancer Free.

With all of this it is hard for me to say the words ‘I am a survivor’. I didn’t have to fight for my life, I didn’t endure months of treatments, I didn’t have rounds of chemicals flowing through my veins, or radiation shot into my body burning the cancer out of me. I had surgery; Albeit a lengthy, major surgery, but in all, it was just surgery.

I don’t feel justified in saying I’m a survivor, but I guess I am. I’m one of the women who found the disease early enough, I took my health into my hands and didn’t shy away from tests. I took on Cancer head first and won. Fuck You Cancer. I made you my bitch.

My cancer, endometrial cancer, is the 4th most common cancer for Canadian women, each year 3,900 women in this country are diagnosed with it, and if caught soon enough it has a high survival rate. IF CAUGHT SOON ENOUGH….get ready ladies…Imma Preaching!

The most common symptom of endometrial cancer is ABNORMAL BLEEDING, spotting between periods, unusually long periods, heavy periods. This cancer isn’t generally found in younger women, it’s generally found in women who are post menopausal. Women my age aren’t affected nearly as often. I went to my GP in December for my physical which of course included the regular cop and feel…pap test the whole ball of yarn. I mentioned my crazy cycles and periods at that point, and he asked me to schedule another appointment to discuss this further and the different options available to me. Very occasionally endometrial cancer can be caught by a pap test, but often, as in my case it isn’t. Don’t rely on a normal pap test and assume you’re all good.

At my second appointment we discussed my 60-90 day cycles, and 12-15 days of bleeding. Sorry to be graphic, but it sucked. I couldn’t leave the house for the first half of my period because I was afraid of bleeding through tampons and pads. It was awful. At this appointment my Dr. decided to send me to a clinic that specialises in minimally invasive techniques of dealing with crazy cycles. My Dr thought I had fibroids, which are very common and quite treatable.

Sooooo to the clinic I went, I believe I had to wait a month or so for my appointment. At this appointment, I met a new Dr who specialises in women’s health etc. He was quite nice. He unfortunately put me through a whack of shitty tests that I am grateful were generally fast. Some Tylenol and Motrin for a few days and I was fine.

It was during these tests that he found one tumour, he of course didn’t tell me, not until he had conclusive pathology. 3 weeks later I was in for my second appointment with him, and I saw the surgeon instead. He very nicely told me I had cancer and needed to have a hysterectomy, as well as my ovaries removed. He then informed me he could do the surgery around Christmas or he could find another oncologist to take my case….FIND ME ANOTHER DR AND GET THIS SHIT OUT OF ME!

September 26th that’s what happened. My new Dr, who is amazing, and who I love removed all my girl bits, she opened my uterus in the surgery suite and found another unexpected tumour, and then the beginning of another was found when they were doing the pathology post surgery.

And now I’m cancer free. I’m still dealing with what this exactly means. I have the chance to start again, I have a new lease on life. I have the opportunity to do things differently. I will not make the same mistakes. I will continue to be vigilant about my health, next step is genetic testing, time to find out if I too am a carrier of the BCRA1 and BCRA2 genes…if I am, another surgery is on the horizon.

So my life now is trying to evade hot flashes, mood swings which tend to be teary not bitchy, and dealing with post surgery recovery. Sore muscles, nausea associated with the anaesthetic (Today I didn’t PUKE!!!!! Woot!) an incision that puts Frankenstein to shame, and doing all of this while caring for my girl. She makes it all worthwhile. I get to be her Mummy for a long, long time.

I’m 35, healthy, active. I’m a Mummy, a friend, a sister, a daughter, (a penguin). I am a volunteer, a hard worker; and now, I am a Cancer Survivor.

September 1, 2012. I have known this day would come, I knew it was going to be tough, I just didn’t expect it to be this tough.

Shaughn is moving out, his belongings have been packed in countless boxes, far outnumbering the years we’ve spent together, but somehow there seems like there should be more. 12 years, organised, taped and labelled, ready for his new apartment.

As much as I want this, and need this, it’s killing me.

Tonight will be the first night I have lived alone, just me and Paisley. No parents, roommates, or him. The first time I won’t be waiting for him to come to bed, or be home after a weekend with his friends. Tonight we start separate lives, only connected by a little girl, who is the best part of both of us.

I don’t regret this decision, not at all, I don’t want him, or us, but I’m scared to do it alone. I have never been alone.

I’ve always had someone when I was having a tough day to give me a hug and a pep talk. There’s always been someone there to talk about things with, to help me brainstorm and run ideas by. There’s always been someone to tell me to ‘suck it up, and deal with it’. And now it’s just me.

My heart is breaking, for all these lost years, for all of the good times we’ve shared, the love that once was, the joys and the times of celebration.

Unfortunately those memories can’t keep me happy, they will just be memories of better times. I can’t live in the past, I need my present and future to make me happy, and excited. What could’ve been will just hold me down.

So now I begin a new chapter in my life, one where I begin to find myself again, one filled with uncertainty and doubt, but a chapter also filled with possibility and hope.

Today is a sad day, today I will cry, I will be angry, and feel my world crumbling down; tomorrow I will wake up, face my world, and pray that I can do this, with grace and a smile.

I’ve not blogged again in a week or so, life has just been crazeeee. Work crap, Cancer crap, Separation crap. There’s not been a lot of good in the last few weeks.

I’m missing Elliot like there’s no tomorrow.

I don’t want this blog post to turn into a public school essay on ‘How I Spent My Summer Holiday’, I’m sorry if it does.

My vacation planning started way back in March, and really, it was kind of a joke for a while. Elliot and I would talk about him coming here to visit the Great White North, and we would laugh because he actually lives north of me.

Over time, the joke turned into a ‘what if’, what if he came here, what if I didn’t go visit Shaughn’s family, what if I had a ‘staycation’ and did things around here. Eventually the what ifs turned into full-out vacation planning in southern Ontario for Elliot and myself

This was the first vacation in 12 years that I was able to do what I wanted to do, go where I wanted to go, see what I wanted to see, and not feel like I was disappointing anyone if I wanted to do something different.

I’m beginning to see what my life will be like when I’m actually alone, Shaughn moves out in a few days, and I won’t have to consider him and what his needs and wants are anymore. I can live my life the way I want to live it. I can go the places I want, see who I want to see, and spend my time how I want and need to spend it.

I digress.

This vacation was so much more than just a typical holiday, it was Elliot’s first time to visit me, to see my space, meet some of my friends and family. I was so very excited that a bunch of my friends from a local LGBTQ group were getting together, so that he would be able to meet some of the wonderful people who have accepted me into their community as an ally. We attended our local Pride festivities and marched with PFLAG in the parade. It was amazing.

We were visiting Toronto and Niagara Falls, and were doing it with a plan, but it was flexible, we could change and alter it if we needed. We were free to wander for hours after a huge storm, and see night fall on the big city. In Niagara we were able to see the first full moon of the month rise over the falls in a $500 hotel room that we paid a mere $139 for!!!! (Always ask for the upgrade!!)

We spent days with Paisley, and nights around the campfire; sharing conversation, laughter, and tears. Still we didn’t run out of things to talk about.

For the first time in years, I finally felt like myself. I didn’t feel I had to censor my thoughts, feelings, or words. I was able to be silly, I was able to be me. I was so happy. I didn’t think about work, or cancer, or separation. I didn’t think about my life falling apart, I thought about how wonderful it was to live this life, even with all of it falling down, I was still living it, I was able to enjoy it. I knew at some point on that vacation that everything was going to be ok. I was going to be ok.

I know I’m in for an uphill climb, I know that life is going to be far from easy in the coming months. I also am realising that I am tough enough, I’m realising that I can ask for help and it’s not a sign of weakness but of strength, I’m realising that my family and friends are the best I could ever imagine, and I don’t know where I would be if they weren’t part of my life.

And so my American Boy came to Canada, he cheered me up, lifted my spirits, let me cry, made me laugh, gave me some tough love but followed it up with a hug.

I came back to work, feeling renewed, I came back with a sense of purpose, and a determination to make the next super hard months ok. I’m determined to find myself again, to find out what makes me happy, and to figure out how to achieve my dreams. (See my ‘Someday’ blog post)

Thank you Elliot for sharing 12 days with us, thank you for all that you do.

His and Hers. They mean completely different things to each of us, but will always remind us, that out there in the world is someone who has the same tattoo. Someone who will listen to the other, someone who will not judge, but will be honest even when it hurts. Someone to make the other laugh on the hard days, and will share in the joys and triumphs that we will both have.

I’ve been on vacation for the last two weeks, I’ve not blogged, but have been able to spend some time reflecting on what I need and want for my future.

At this point in my life everything is so up in the air, I feel very out of control, and overwhelmed with the changes that are fast approaching. Shaughn is moving in less than a month, my surgery fu for the end of September, we are talking more about Paisley and school, and I am missing friends and family who are far away.

I guess the following is just really my own little pipe dream, and if bits and pieces of it come true than fantastic, until then…I’ll keep waiting for my Someday.

SOMEDAY, I want to have my perfect life. I don’t mean like white picket fences, or lots of money. I just want a partner who loves me and Paisley. I want to be comfortable, I don’t want to have to worry about money or bills, and I want to have enough saved up that I can take a vacation, or go someplace neat on a rainy day. I want Paisley to grow up knowing that even though Shaughn and I couldn’t make it work, that we still love her, and that we will always have her back. I want her to know that she can have a fairy tale ending even though I didn’t.

SOMEDAY, I want to have a job I love and that I feel like I am making a difference in people’s lives. In most respects, I have that now. I do love my job, I love the kids, the chaos, and the joy I feel when I am with them. I generally feel like I am making a difference. But, my hours are long, I live at work, and sometimes I feel under appreciated. I’m not sure what I want to do, a big part of me wants to work with LGBTQ youth, or to work in the school system teaching teachers and staff about the many issues LGBTQ youth face at home, with friends and family, in the community and at school. I don’t know how to do this, I don’t know if there is a need (I really think there is though), I don’t know what kind of education I would need, or if it is something that I would be satisfied with in the end.

SOMEDAY, I want another child. I want to give a child in the system a forever home. I can’t have any more of my own, and I don’t really want a baby (ugh, I’m sooo not a baby person) but I would love to adopt an older child, someone who needs a family to love them, and to celebrate them.

SOMEDAY, I want to fall head over heels in love. I want to go to bed wrapped up in love, and wake up the same way. I want to be smart about it next time. I want to value myself, and treat myself properly. I have to be ok with being alone first, knowing I can do it on my own, before letting someone new in. I can’t let the fear of being alone cloud my judgment in the future. If I end up alone, I have to be ok with that, but if I find a new partner, I need to make sure that they are the right person for me. I can’t do this again; not to myself or to Paisley. Separating and divorce sucks rocks. The End.

SOMEDAY, I want to be able to look back on my marriage to Shaughn and not feel anger, guilt, or sadness. I want to be able to be open-minded to all the good things that happened despite the breakdown. I want to be able to see all the good things that came out of it, and not just see the bad stuff. I want to be able to share silly stories with Paisley about what her daddy was like, and the crazy things we did when we were young. I want to look back and feel a sense of happiness. It hasn’t all been bad, it’s just hard to see the good some days.

SOMEDAY, I want a cure for cancer, all cancers, not just mine. I don’t want any other families to go through the same shit I am going through, and that my family has gone through in the last 10 years. It’s heartbreaking.

Lastly,

SOMEDAY, I want to wake up and know that everything is ok in my world. I want to smile, and embrace my life. I want to feel happy, I want to feel safe; and I want to feel that I can take on any challenge thrown at me because I am strong enough, smart enough, and good enough to take it on.